


Moving Day

by zephalien



Series: community center paul [7]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Depression, First Kiss, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Religious Conflict, Trans, Transgender Alec Hardy, paul is going thru it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephalien/pseuds/zephalien
Summary: The knock surprises Paul, but his head ticks up instantly. He is aware he’s been cursing up a storm trying to pack and he is sure one of the neighbors in the area has come to scold him. He doesn’t know the last time he has cursed. Foul mouthed ex vicar. He supposes that's who he is now.(Paul is moving and Hardy comes to visit.)
Relationships: Paul Coates/Alec Hardy
Series: community center paul [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598026
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Moving Day

The knock surprises Paul, but his head ticks up instantly. He is aware he’s been cursing up a storm trying to pack and he is sure one of the neighbors in the area has come to scold him. He doesn’t know the last time he has cursed. Foul mouthed ex vicar. He supposes that's who he is now.   
  
He sees Alec Hardy standing sheepishly in his doorway and suddenly remembers very clearly the last time he cursed. He offers a sheepish smile to the man. “Hi.”   
  
It feels as though all the energy he had been using to try to press the too full box down to tape it leaves him at the sight of the man and he plops his ass down on the floor from where he’s been crouched. Alec is still standing in the doorway looking, if possible, even more sheepish than before. He shuffles a bit.    
  
“Hi.” He says and then seems to appraise the surroundings. “Moving out?”   
  
“Yeah, it’s uh… leased by the church.” Paul’s eyes dart away. This is the last topic he wants to discuss, but he supposes Alec would be curious about it. Anyone would be, but Alec just nods.    
  
“You’re gonna give the old church ladies a heart attack with that mouth.” He says and Paul startles a laugh. He had been too busy to notice it, but it seems Alec Hardy has a bit of a sense of humor.    
  


“Serves them right for sticking their noses in it anyhow.” He mutters with a slightly manic wicked grin. Alec seems to be surprised he has made a joke just as much as Paul had been about him.   
  
Alec crosses the room to the box that Paul had been struggling with and through some form of magic manages to get it closed and taped off in a few swift motions. Paul just gapes at him and Alec cracks another sheepish grin and shrugs. Paul almost makes a comment, but he’s so.... tired. He just flops backward to lay on the floor next to where Alec is standing.    
  
Alec clears his throat awkwardly and Paul lets his eyes fall closed in humiliation from his own behavior and exhaustion. “How are you?” Alec rumbles above him.   
  
“You don’t have to do that.” Paul responds. He doesn’t have the energy to be this angry person he has become anymore. He just wants to fall asleep right here where he is laid, but he knows he can’t with Alec right there. He wonders what Alec would do if he did just fall asleep.   
  
“Do what?” Alec asks. His voice sounds defensive, but Paul doesn’t open his eyes to confirm his facial expression. It hardly matters anyway.   
  
“Pretend you care how I am.” Paul tells him. He doesn’t know why Alec is here. He has no idea why he keeps returning. It’s like he wants something from this tense and awkward series of interactions. Heaven knows that Paul hasn’t ever been anything approaching nice to him and Alec even admitted it himself.    
  


“Fine.” Alec sighs and it does make Paul take a quick peek, eyes blinking open and closed quickly so he gets a flash of that intense serious face before his eyes flicker shut again. 

He waits for the sound of Alec leaving. Instead, he feels and hears Alec as he folds his limbs to sitting next to Paul. Some selfish part of Paul wants to tell him to go away, but a neediness finds its way to his heart and he knows he wants the man to stay. He is tired of packing. He is tired of being alone. He is tired of pretending to be nice. He is tired of being angry and scared and sad. He wants someone here, even if that someone is Alec Hardy. It makes no sense and he doesn’t know how to parse out his feelings so he lets Alec sit next to him in silence for a long time as his chest rises and falls.    
  
“I should apologize.” Alec says abruptly.    
  
Paul abruptly opens his eyes, but doesn’t respond immediately. He just looks over the man in front of him. He looks quite bedraggled himself, like he hasn’t been sleeping much. Paul wants to not feel this small tug of sympathy for the man, especially after their last interaction, but he knows how the case that Alec must have just finished up had turned out. The newspapers had been all too gleeful in their coverage. He knows that if Maggie was still in charge, she would have kept it more under control, but she wasn’t anymore. It makes him feel bleak knowing she isn’t able to protect people. Maybe he just wishes he could protect people. He remembers her words when he had given his final sermon. His eyes had been, by chance, on Alec Hardy when she said them.    
  
_ See, petal. You are loved. _   
  
It has been years since anyone came to check on him like this. Nobody since Becca, but she had skipped town with barely a glance back. Even Maggie was lost in her own dramas, no matter how kind she could be. It occurs to him again that Alec is the first person to ask him how he is doing in such a long time and he sighs as he searches the man’s too serious expression.    
  
Paul takes a deep breath in. “It’s nothing.”   
  
Alec’s brow wrinkles. “”S not.” He protests. He gets more Scottish and high pitched when he’s confused and it makes Paul chuckle a little. “What? I’m serious. I am sorry.”   
  
“No, it’s not that. I just… Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean it.” Paul says, more gently.   
  
If possible, Alec looks even more confused. “So… do you forgive me then?”   
  
It’s so formal, the way he talks sometimes. Paul gives him a serious answer, despite that manic urge to laugh bubbling up inside his belly. “Yes. I forgive you. Will you forgive me?”

  
“For what?” Alec asks, shocked. 

“I’ve been a massive twat to you.” Paul tells him, exhausted. He feels bad but he’s also just so tired.   
  
“Oi, for a vicar. You have a pretty foul mouth.” Alec protests, but he’s smiling softly. 

Paul’s stomach is a deep hole full of nothing.   
  
“Not a vicar anymore.” His eyes close again, against rebellious tears. His hands lay flat on his belly with thumbs tapping away on his abdomen. He hasn’t properly told anyone anything about this yet. He can’t bring himself to lie to Alec though. There’s no point to it, he knows this.   


“Yeah, not here, but you’ll go somewhere else, right? Some other church or something. I don’t know much about churches.” Alec says and there’s some rustling like he’s fidgeting.   


“No.” Paul says simply.   
  
“What? You just quit?” He asks. He sounds confused again and Paul knows now what that expression would look like if his eyes were open. 

  
“No.” Paul responds. He feels his stomach roil at the admission. Internally, he begs Hardy to stop asking questions. He hasn’t admitted this to anyone. Why Alec? Why now?   
  
“Wha-” Alec starts, but he stops himself. “I’m sorry. I’m interrogating you again. You don’t have to tell me.”   
  
Paul almost sobs in relief. He is surprised Alec has picked up on his discomfort and he opens his eyes to see Alec watching him intently. He looks away when Paul opens his eyes, pressing one hand to his chest in a nervous gesture and one fiddles with the fibers of the carpeting. Something about the awkward nervous behavior makes Paul want to be truthful. 

“They fired me.” Paul tells him, voice pointedly even. He has no idea what Hardy will say to this confession. He always admits too much around Alec. He doesn’t know why. He thinks maybe he’s just been waiting for someone to ask. There aren't people who really wonder about him.

“For what?” Alec asks, but he’s not curious. He seems… indignant. Paul can’t imagine him being indignant on his behalf and he almost wants to hug him for it. 

“Lots of reasons.” Paul sighs out. His eyes are greener with the redness tingeing them now. It’s not going to be a long conversation if Paul can’t get himself under control and there’s a desperate rebellion being staged inside him to keep Alec here with him, just for a bit. The ache of being alone was becoming harder and harder to bear, especially now that he won’t be the vicar anymore. Who would he be now? He doesn’t know. “Not enough donations. Not enough people. I may have implied the bishop is homophobic. Y’know. Stuff.”   
  
A surprised laugh escapes Hardy before he can squash it. “You what?” He asks in shock.    
  
Paul makes a dismissive gesture with his hands before they return to tapping his stomach. Something in him wants to defend the church still. “It’s nothing... I wanted.. Maggie said she wasn’t comfortable. I thought.. I don’t know what I thought. I guess I wanted to believe that if I made some sort of statement or reached out officially then maybe people like her....” He goes still and quiet for a moment then looks Hardy in the eye, “People like me... then they’d know.... you know? That the church is a sanctuary. A safety for everyone.”

Those dark eyes color with confusion again and Hardy says, “That sounds… nice.”   
  
Paul looks up at the ceiling blinking away angry tears now. “But it isn’t safe. Not for her. Not for Mark or Beth.” His voice gets quieter. “Not for me.”   
  
Hardy runs his fingers through the carpeting anxiously. “I know.” Their eyes meet and Hardy continues. “I’ve… I know how Maggie feels.”   
  
There’s nothing Hardy could have said that would have made Paul feel any worse than that. He has failed him just like everyone else. He lets his gaze go to the ceiling again as he tries to blink away the wetness that’s rapidly growing. After a long appraisal of Paul, Hardy seems to practically collapse to the floor. He’s laid himself out next to Paul, head turned to face him. His eyes close.    
  
Paul watches him breathe for a long time before Hardy speaks, eyes opening finally. “You tried though. That’s something.”   
  
“For all the good it’s done me.” Paul mutters. It’s a knee jerk response, but Hardy nods.

Paul studies him again critically and, in a moment of impulsive want, his hand comes to Hardy’s face, fingers trailing through his beard. He expects to be rebuffed immediately, but Hardy softens to the touch.

Hardy wants to close his eyes again and let Paul touch him forever, but forces himself to remain completely still and keep eye contact with Paul.

“Why did you come to the church that one night?” Paul nearly whispers.

Hardy remembers what he means. It was the night before his pacemaker surgery. He hesitates before responding to the unexpected question, wary of breaking the spell they both seem to be under. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to find some sort of meaning.”

“Did you?” Paul asks him. His eyes are tight and voice betraying a bit of his wretched desperation. 

Hardy looks at him for a long time savoring the feeling of Paul’s hand on his face. He wants to say yes. The intense focus of those green eyes are practically boring a hole through him and he feels raw and split open. He wants to say yes just because he knows Paul needs him to, but he can’t bring himself to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know if there is a meaning.” He breathes.

Paul closes his eyes and a pained look draws his brows together. His thumb strokes soothing circles on Hardy’s cheek. Hardy feels his muscles unfreeze seeing the pained expression. He brings his own hand up and settles it on Paul’s cheek, returning the gesture. When Paul opens his eyes again, they are red and watery.

He watches Paul. He knows he is too close. The intimacy of the moment is making his ribs feel ever tightening as he allows it to draw on.

Paul moves, swift and easy, forward and resolves the boiling tension by pressing a sweet kiss to Hardy’s tightly pressed lips. It's so sudden Hardy doesn't have time to lean in or move, not even time to return the kiss, and Paul pulls away immediately but remains still so close. Hardy thinks for a moment about kissing him again. He thinks about going to bed with him. Hardy thinks briefly about taking off his shirt and letting Paul see his body, letting him touch him. He reels back in disgust at the thought. Paul's hand drops as he pulls abruptly away and Hardy yanks his own away and scrabbles to sit upright.

“I should go.” Hardy says in a monotone. There is a horrible moment of hope in his chest that Paul will argue with him, maybe tell him to stay. 

Paul sits up as well, hands folded tightly into one another biting his lip and looking at the floor, “Sure.”

“It’s not-” Hardy tries to protest, seeing the way Paul is shutting down.

“It's fine. You're a busy man. 'Sides I have a lot of packing to get done. You don’t have to apologize.” Paul says, not making eye contact. Hardy can practically see the way he is pressing harder together and tighter into himself.

Hardy slides his hands down the front of his shirt focusing intently at not tugging down the binder where it has slid slightly out of place from laying down. He looks at Paul, who still won't look at him.

“Take care of yourself.” Hardy tells him earnestly.

Paul peers at him intently for a moment. “Yeah... sure.”


End file.
